


Get Out While You Can

by Spoodlemonkey



Series: Star Wars Universe [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Brief appearances by Spezza Radulov and Rousse, M/M, Pre-Slash, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 12:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14237514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoodlemonkey/pseuds/Spoodlemonkey
Summary: Jamie can safely say he hates escorting foreign dignitaries.





	Get Out While You Can

**Author's Note:**

> A prequel to my other Jamie/Tyler fic set in the Star Wars universe. It's a whole new sandbox to play in! Un beta'd so any mistakes are my own. Let me know what you think!

Jamie can safely say he hates escorting foreign dignitaries.

Jordie can give him shit for it all he wants but the facts speak for themselves- he has never had an escort mission that hasn't had some sort of hiccup. Jenny's convinced he's cursed, Jamie's leaning that way himself, especially after this one.

His hands are cuffed in front of him, electronic locks like the Empire supplies that make it a bitch to get out of without a droid handy. Jamie's droid is out of commission, sitting fried by his x wing and waiting for someone to come by and grab it before the wrong guys figure out where he stashed it. Spezza stumbles next to him as he's shoved roughly. Jamie keeps his shoulder there, a solid presence for him to lean against as he regains his footing. The guards shout something but he can't make it out, only knows they're deep in bantha shit.

The cell they're led to is the size of his quarters on base. The similarities end there- it's barren, rough stone walls and floor, no bed or bench, just a bucket in the corner and the heavy door leading in.

The guards shove them again. The rough stone wall bites into his cheek, a grunt escaping him. The guards say something to each other and then there's a sharp, stabbing pain along the side of his neck.

Jamie swears, but he's released, the guard stepping back, a small square box in it's hand.

He swears, cuffed hands flying up and feeling around for the small, round object, barely a bump along the side of his neck. Spezza lets out a cry, a string of profanities and shoves the guard off of him. The guards don't hit the little button on the box, just leave, slamming the door behind them.

"Fucking slavers," Jamie’s blunt nails run over the small disc, feeling the throb of pain from where its broken the skin and dug in deep.

"We need to get off this backwater hellhole."

“I’m open to suggestions.” Jamie paces the length of the room, eyes sharp as he scans the walls, the floors, the ceiling for some sign that they’re not trapped in a room made solely of solid stone. He tries the door next but it’s solid and even if they had something to work at the hinges with, it’s going to take them too long. The guards will be back by then, probably with someone who speaks basic and a trigger finger for the slavers they’ve been stuck with.

“Looks like we’re waiting,” he murmurs, leaning back against the cool stone wall and letting gravity pull him down. He sprawls his long legs out before him, keeping half an eye on where Spezza is still crouched by the door, looking for answers that aren’t there.

The waiting is the hardest part- especially when he isn’t sure what he’s waiting for, the guards or rescue. The mission is to get Senator Aberdine off the planet and out of the system to one of their friends in the resistance, and even with Jamie and Spezza stuck in a cell, there’s still Tyler, Rousse and Rads to get them off planet. And he hopes, prays to the Force, that they’re smart enough to get the hell out while they can, and then maybe send some back up. He knows his boys won’t jeopardize the mission, but holding out until they can spare someone for a rescue op isn’t going to be fun.

 

::

 

Keeping track of time in a windowless cell is a hell of its own. There’s no way to judge how long it’s been since they were tossed in, or how much longer they’re going to have to wait in this limbo for something to happen. His stomach starts to make noises, reminding him it’s been awhile since he ate breakfast on base.

The longer he stays seated on the floor, the more his muscles start to lock up from the cold and hard stone, so he pushes to his feet, works through a few stretches, tries to get the blood flowing again.

He’s not really worried that someone could be listening in, waiting for them to spill their secrets, but he and Spezza keep conversation light, on the off chance. But it makes the waiting worse, as boredom starts to creep in, fighting the anxiety thats curling tight in his chest until it’s a dizzying array of emotions that leave short tempered, rearing for a fight.

He can’t say how much time has passed when the cell door swings open again, doesn’t get a chance to guess, before sharp burning pain surges through him and leaves him panting on the floor.

The pain is gone as quickly as it came and he’s hauled to his feet by rough hands. His muscles are uncooperative, spasms wracking his frame. The guards end up taking most of his weight, and if it seems like it’s a strain on them, then _good_ , serves the kriffing bastards right. _Farkled slavers_.

They deposit him on a steel chair in a cell just like the one he and Spezza have been cooling their heels in and leave him for a moment. He’s still trying to catch his breath when the door opens again and Jamie’s stomach sinks.

The familiar armor of a bounty hunter is the first thing he spots; a dull grey blue. There’s a blast mark along the side, looks recent too, but it can’t have been too bad if this guys still moving. Jamie can’t see his face, helmet firmly on his head; his eyes flicker down to the blaster on their hip briefly. Getting grabbed by a bounty hunter is just as bad as getting grabbed by the Empire, in Jamie’s books.

He lunges. The cuffs make it awkward, and he’s still sluggish but adrenaline is kicking in, surging through his veins, pushing him along. Hands catch on his shoulders, fumble for his cuffs and shove him back. He falls awkwardly, hits his elbow on the edge of the metal chair, grits his teeth against it.

“Kriffing- _Jamie_!” The bounty hunter tears off his helmet and Tylers bright gaze is staring back at him, hair slick with sweat, plastered to his forehead and the absolute best thing Jamie’s ever seen. “It’s me!”

“Tyler?” His voice comes out hoarse and the relief that rushes through him has him reeling. “How are you here?”

“Like I’d leave you morons to rot in a cell.” He scoffs, crouching down to Jamie’s level. His hands are gentle as he cups Jamie’s wrists, inspecting the cuffs. There’s not much they can do right now until they get to Rad’s droid, if it’s still functional at all with the shoot out they’d been involved in trying to get off the planet. Tyler’s warm gaze flickers up, catches his own and holds it. His thumb strokes at the chafed, tender skin on the inside of Jamie’s wrist. He can feel his breath catch, his heart thundering away in his ears. Tyler’s expression turns serious, intent like he’s willing Jamie to understand him when he says, “Leaving you behind was _never_ an option.”

“The Senator?” His mouth is dry. He doesn’t know what to say. The mission comes first.

Tyler’s intense gaze eases, humor slipping back in as he stands, hauling Jamie to his feet with him. He doesn’t drop his hands right away.

“Hanging out in a nearby village with Rads- they’re _bonding_ . It’s where we got the gear,” he gestures at the armor similar in design to what the Fett family is known for. That explains the blast along the side; he can’t help it, reaches out and smoothes his fingers along the burn, reassure himself it’s old, that aside from being _an idiot_ Tyler is fine.

Tyler catches his hand, squeezes and meets Jamie’s gaze. All he can think as he stares back is that he’s lucky the other guys aren’t here, not with all the chirping they’d be getting.

“So what’s the plan?”

“We’re grabbing Spezza and walking out of here. Rousse is just outside” Tyler grins. “And then getting these cuffs off.”

“And these,” Jamie tilts his head, baring his neck and it takes a moment before Tyler spots the small metal disc in his skin. He swears, eyes dark and furious, but they don’t have time to talk before there’s a banging on the door. Tyler throws his helmet back on and shoves it open, one strong hand on Jamie’s shoulder, guiding him.

He says something, garbled and unfamiliar to Jamie’s ears and the guards reply. Someone’s clearly taught Tyler a few phrases, it bodes well for friendlies on the planet. One of the guards disappears down the hall, reappearing a moment later with Spezza. Jamie catches his eye, gives him a steady gaze he hopes conveys the need to go along with them.

Tyler says something again and then in basic, “I want the unit too.”

The guards glance at each other, clearly not understanding, so Tyler grips Jamie’s hair, tugs, until he’s baring his neck again. He fights down the instinct to fight it, grits his teeth and reminds himself it’s _Tyler_ , not some bounty hunter set to sell them off. One of the guards passes the slaver box over and Jamie tenses at the sight of it, before Tyler takes it, secreting it away, safe and out of sight. Some of the tension seeps out of him at this and he catches Tyler saying something about the Empire before steering Jamie and Spezza towards a being cloaked in heavy coarse fabric. The height and build is right for Rousse so Jamie ignores the blaster pointed at them and lets himself be led out of there, probably more passively than he should, but he’s not the spy here.

He doesn’t really start to relax until they’re in the small village the boys have been hiding out in and Rad’s droid manages to get their cuffs off. The slavers are another matter- with the way they fuse to their nerves when injected they’ll need minor surgery to get those out, which means waiting till they’re back on base.

They still need to recover his droid from the wreck of his x wing, and get the Senator to their allies but no ones come after them yet and Jamie will take what he can get.

“Hey,” Tyler appears at his side as they get the Senator ready to move. He presses close, long fingers coming up to trace carefully at the metal disc buried deep in Jamie’s neck. “I can’t wait until this kriffing thing is gone.”

“Same here,” is all he can think to say as those long fingers slide up his neck, touch teasing, before he cups Jamie’s cheek. He can feel a blush creeping across his skin, knows his cheeks must be a violent pink now.

“I kind of expected you to be pissed, that we didn’t get off planet like you ordered,” Tyler’s gaze bounces from the blush on his cheeks, to his lips to his eyes. “But I wasn’t leaving without you.”  
Jamie finds a moment of bravery, and lets his hands settle on Tyler’s waist. It feels wrong with the armor in place instead of the warmth he knows Tyler gives off, his muscles and strong frame. He squeezes, flexes his hands, thinks about what it would be like, allowed to touch. His mouth goes dry at the images.

“Commander,” Rads shatters the moment with a snort and forces Jamie to drop his hands from Tyler’s waist in order to catch the communicator he tosses his way. “Ready to go.”

“Great. Okay. Let’s...do that.” He can feel the violent blush that’s spread down past his flight suit and ducks his head as Tyler huffs out a laugh and flips a smirking Rads off. The Senator and Rousse are headed their way, deep in discussion and he tries to school his face- judging by the odd looks he garners, he hasn’t succeeded.  

The smile Tyler shoots his way as they head out towards the hidden x wings makes it worth it.


End file.
